


some unsaid thing

by wasted_potential_007



Series: Aureate August 2018 [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (sexual) frustration, Aureate August 2018, Author Is Sleep Deprived, F/F, Holding Hands, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, and dead inside, general confusion, written on little to no sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasted_potential_007/pseuds/wasted_potential_007
Summary: Written for Day 7 & 8 of Aureate August 2018."Hill hates everything.It’s a conclusion she comes to after thirty-some hours of no sleep, six cups of coffee, blood and dust and sweat caking her body, and worst of all, being on a mission with the Black Widow."In which Maria's forced to share a bed with Natasha after a mission run long.(i know it's been done before, but i wanted to put my own spin on it, i guess)Cross-posted on tumblr, just like everything else.





	1. Vexatious

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Vexatious- adj. causing or tending to cause annoyance, frustration, or worry."
> 
> i guess i'm making this it's own work because it's split into two parts? i don't even know anymore.  
> will (hopefully) be updated really soon since it's pretty shitty, tbh.

Hill hates everything.

It’s a conclusion she comes to after thirty-some hours of no sleep, six cups of coffee, blood and dust and sweat caking her body, and worst of all, being on a mission with the Black Widow.

Maria’s bone-tired and she stumbles up the stairs to her hotel room, Romanoff smirking at her from the top of the stairs because of course the Black Widow isn’t showing any signs of wear or tear, not even one lock of hair out of place even with her face somewhat covered in dust and sweat.

“Slowing down, Agent?” Romanoff asks, arrogance and teasing in her tone and Maria is _too fucking tired_ to deal with her right now

(and she _really_ doesn’t want to analyze why when Romanoff smirks at her, it’s like her heart leaps or something.)

Hill sends Romanoff a glare that could make any other agent wither but the Black Widow only smirks in response, still standing at the landing even when Hill makes it to the top.

“What are you waiting for?” Maria asks because Romanoff’s still standing there, smirking at her.

“You have the keys,” Romanoff responds casually.

_You have got to be shitting me._

“We’re sharing a room?” Maria asks as her mind panics and grumbles at the same time because for one thing, she’s sharing a room with Agent Romanoff who is wild, reckless, but for another thing she’s sharing a room with the _Black Widow_ who has curves that would make anyone go weak in the knees.

And by anyone, she means herself.

_God fucking dammit._

“Yes,” Romanoff replies, “you didn’t notice? You must the off your game more than usual, Hill.” Romanoff’s voice is teasing and Maria’s tempted to glare at her again, but she doesn’t even have the energy for _that_.

“Hopefully, they’ll be twin beds or something,” Hill mutters under her breath as she walks over to her, _their_ hotel room, “ten, eleven, twelve…”

She stops at room thirteen and quickly unlocks the door, Romanoff following her as she steps inside and flicks on the lights.

“Seriously?” Maria says loudly, internally screaming every curse word she knows because it’s not two twin beds she sees, it’s one queen bed in the middle of a room with questionable stains on the wallpaper and Hill doesn’t know if she’ll be able to last the night with _Natasha fucking Romanoff_ lying a couple of inches away from her.

Romanoff steps in front of her, dumping her bag on a rickety-looking chair, taking out some items as if this is no big deal to her.

“Which side of the bed do you want?” Romanoff asks, showing no signs of discomfort at all, as if she does this every day; sharing a bed with Maria Hill.

( _there’s_ a thought that catches Maria off guard; waking up with Romanoff in her arms every morning but she quickly shoves it out of her mind.)

“I don’t really care,” Maria replies, trying to keep her tone professional. “Just pick one.”

“Okay,” Romanoff replies. “I’ll take the left side. Do you want to shower first then?”

“Sure,” Maria says, grabbing her bag and stepping into the bathroom, hoping that a shower will clear her mind and erase the impure thoughts she’s been having the whole day.

\---

Maria’s scrolling through her phone, letting her hair dry out post-lukewarm shower clad in boxer shorts and a t-shirt when Natasha Romanoff steps into the room, exiting the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and Hill’s mouth goes dry.

The sight of Romanoff’s hair dripping, water droplets cascading down her neck and into the front of the towel is enough to get Maria annoyed and sexually frustrated again, undoing any of the effects the shower had on her.

And when she meets Romanoff’s eyes, she can tell that she’s been caught staring by the way Romanoff smirks at her.

“See something you like?” Romanoff teases, her voice almost sultry and Maria doesn’t know if it’s intentional or not when the towel just drops a little bit.

“Shut up, Romanoff,” Hill mutters as she fights to keep her eyes off of Romanoff’s ass as the Black Widow bends over to grab some clothes from her bag.

“Call me Natasha,” Romanoff immediately says. Maria notices, even in her sleep-deprived state, that Natasha seems surprised by her own comment. “I mean, we’re going to be sharing a bed, so we might as well use first names then, right?”

“Maria then,” Hill replies, “if we’re going that route.”

Natasha gives her a slight nod and suddenly the mood in the room has changed because Natasha isn’t teasing her anymore, she’s just- open, for lack of a better term; more honest and frank and Maria’s taken aback by how quickly everything has shifted.

Natasha disappears into the bathroom for a quick moment, coming out a couple of moments later wearing a tanktop and boxer shorts and Maria catches herself staring again at the curves of Natasha’s hips, her toned thighs but when Natasha catches her this time, she feels ashamed, _dirtier_ for some reason.

Maria sets down her phone as Natasha slides into bed next to her and she can feel the mission start to take a toll on the woman sitting beside her.

She realizes that this is a side to Natasha that no one ever sees as Natasha dries her hair, running a towel through the wet locks over and over again.

It’s the first time she hasn’t felt annoyed all day.

\---


	2. Nyctophilia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8 of Aureate August 2018  
> "Nyctophilia- love of darkness or night; finding relaxation and comfort in the darkness.”
> 
> y'all this chapter has more mood swings than a moody teenager i blame my sleep-deprived ass.  
> and this chapter kinda fills the prompt. not really. it's enough (i think?)

Natasha lies on the left side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling until she feels Maria’s breath even out beside her, Maria’s chest rising and falling evenly as her stay shut. Maria’s facing towards her and Natasha can see how relaxed she is, her facial features softened and Natasha has a sudden impulse to stroke her cheek; run her fingers across the smooth skin.

(it isn’t the first time she’s had these thoughts and with the way Maria was looking at her earlier, she can almost convince herself that there’s this, well, _thing_ between them.)

Shoving down the thoughts, Natasha quickly climbs out of bed, double-checking that the windows are sealed shut before drawing the curtains over them completely, not letting one ray of moonlight in and walking over to the door, making sure it’s locked before quietly sinking back into bed.

It’s more a force of habit than anything but Natasha finds she likes the pitch-blackness of the room; in the dark, it’s just her and her thoughts.

Her mind wanders as she stares into the blackness.

She thinks about the mission they’ve been on for a week, deep undercover in the middle of Egypt attempting to infiltrate some weapons ring, until things went FUBAR and they ended up with the blood of others on their hands, dead men lying around them. Maria had more than carried her weight in the firefight and Natasha thinks it’s a miracle neither of them ended up with any gunshot wounds.

Natasha hears Maria shuffling beside her, the sound of skin moving against the sheets and suddenly she feels something land on her with a soft _thump._

Apparently, Maria Hill moves around in her sleep.

It’s probably Maria’s hand that’s resting on her chest until, somehow, it moves over to her right forearm and then she feels Maria’s fingers clutching onto her skin, and then Maria’s legs are entwining with hers.

Normally, she would be freaking out but it’s dark and she feels like she, _they’re_ in their own bubble, so for now, she can enjoy this.

She finds Maria’s other hand quietly and slowly slips her fingers to interlock with Maria’s, the other agent’s fingers automatically sliding into place alongside hers.

Their hands fit perfectly together, and Natasha can’t help but think of the unspoken thing.

\---

Natasha awakes with a jolt and it takes a moment for her to get out of her sleep-induced haze.

(she slept surprisingly well for some reason, especially for a post-mission night.)

Then, she slowly registers how her legs are intertwined with someone else’s, how her hand is somehow clutching onto someone else’s hand, and how her face is a couple of centimeters away from-

_Holy compromising position._

Maria Hill.

She and Maria Hill are _cuddling each other._

Natasha accidentally lets out a small squeak and apparently, that’s enough to wake Maria up because she can see the rise and fall of Maria’s chest changing- _please Hill, don’t wake up_ -and then Maria’s eyes are fluttering open and-

_Oh._

She wasn’t expecting _this._

The hand that was grabbing her forearm suddenly moves to cup her cheek, Maria’s thumb stroking her skin slowly, gently.

(is she dreaming? she finds she doesn’t even care anymore.)

Maria’s blue eyes are open, the clear blue in them striking and Natasha finds herself getting lost in them for a little bit and suddenly she’s leaning in, slowly closing the centimeters between them until-

“What the fuck?” Maria screams.

Hill literally leaps from the bed and reality comes crashing down, whatever moment they were having clearly gone.

“What was _that_ ?” Maria asks again, the disbelief evident in her tone as she surveys their surroundings; the rumpled sheets, how close Natasha is to the middle of the bed. “Did- did we do anything? Did _I_ do anything?”

Natasha’s still reeling from the moment until Maria’s words finally reach her _very_ confused brain and she forms an intelligible sentence.

“I’m assuming we didn’t, since our clothes are still on,” Natasha points out, trying to keep her tone under control.

“What happened?” Maria asks hurriedly, her eyes wide as she looks at Natasha, her hair sticking up everywhere. “You know what? Never mind. Let’s just forget _this,_ ” she motions with her arms crazily, _“_ ever happened.”

Natasha can’t hide how Maria’s words unexpectedly sting and apparently Maria notices because her eyes suddenly become softer and she slowly sits back down on the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under her weight.

“I don’t know what happened,” Natasha admits after a couple of awkward moments of silence, slightly tilting her head to avoid Maria’s eyes “just- it- it felt-”

“Right,” Maria suddenly says, her tone softer. “It felt right.”

Another couple of moments pass as they sit in silence, Natasha’s legs still half-hidden underneath the sheets.

“Yeah,” Natasha mumbles suddenly, finally garnering the courage to look up into Maria’s eyes once again. What’s between them is different now and she could feel it in the air; their unspoken _thing,_ whatever it was, is now pretty close to being exposed and it’s a liberating thought.

Natasha doesn’t know who leans in first; all she can comprehend is that _Maria fucking Hill’s_ lips are on hers and it feels like falling and flying at the same time as they kiss softly.

Maria’s first to pull back and Natasha notices her slightly flushed cheeks, her tousled hair and it’s something that she’s only ever dreamed about.

  
And technically, this _thing_ between them remains unspoken; they just kiss instead.


End file.
